


How Can I Help You Say Goodbye

by ChElFi



Series: When the Wizard Gets to Me I'm Asking for a Smaller Heart [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Death, F/M, Loss, MCU compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChElFi/pseuds/ChElFi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve loved Peggy. Seventy years in the ice hadn't changed that. Her age hadn't changed that. No one around Steve understands what it's like to love someone so deeply, and then to lose them. Do they? (Rated T for language.) One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Can I Help You Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yesterday I was pretty much ruined by a Steve x Peggy story I read so I was unable to finish editing the two chapters I intended to post yesterday and the one today. This morning, I was apparently still ruined, so I had to deal with it. This is me, dealing. :)
> 
> The title is from the Patti Loveless song.
> 
> Please R&R.

Steve sat at the table staring at his empty glass wondering if it was worth the effort to refill it. The alcohol didn't do anything for him.

Damn the Serum.

He'd never been one to get drunk on a regular basis, or even for fun. When he did drink too much was because he'd lost track of the number of drinks he'd had, forgetting he couldn't keep up with Bucky.

G-d, Bucky. What was he supposed to do?

Steve rubbed his face with his hands and leaned forward on the table.

The pain was too much right now, too fresh. The loss felt like more than he could bear. He wished for a moment, again, that he could trade places. But what would that accomplish? He apparently couldn't even die.

 _Damn_ the Serum.

Steve's hearing alerted him to her presence as she entered the room. She walked slowly, softly, but purposely toward him. Quietly, she took a seat at the table and looked at him.

He looked up at her and gave her a small smile which she didn't return. He was, honestly, surprised to see her. He'd expected someone, but not her.

The look in her eyes surprised him as well, there was a deep sympathy in them. He wondered if it had been there when she had expressed her condolences earlier at the graveside.

She said nothing and Steve had the feeling that she expected him to say nothing as well. She was there, it would seem, just to be there, to be present. It's nothing he would have expected of her, of someone like her. But she had been surprising him since that first meeting in the bunker.

_"SHIELD. HYDRA. It all goes."_

_"He's right."_

Steve wondered if she'd caught the look of surprise on his face at her words. He hadn't expected her to agree, not right away, and not without more of an argument. But if she'd seen, she allowed no visible reaction. _That_ he expected of her.

But now she _was_ showing emotion. It almost looked as if she understood his pain. Then, he realized, that most of what he knew of her came from rumors and gossip. He had paid them no heed, but they were in his head none-the-less simply because he'd heard them.

He cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked as he spoke.

"Wanna drink?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly, her gaze never leaving his face, her look never changing. The uncharitable thought that she was pretending flashed through Steve's mind briefly before he chastised himself.

What purpose would it serve to pretend now?

They returned to their silence and Steve returned to staring at his glass. Maria simply stared at him.

She wasn't impatient, wasn't waiting for him to talk, he could tell those things by her mannerisms, by her heart rate, by her breathing patterns. She was simply there.

It was thirty minutes before he wondered if he could tell her his thoughts, another thirty before he did. But she did nothing more than occasionally shift in her seat.

"I loved her," he said.

He turned his eyes to hers then, giving her a hard stare, daring her to contradict or disbelieve him. But there was only the same sympathy in her eyes, and the slightest nod.

"No one," he turned away from her as he took a deep shuddering breath. "No one understands how much."

She remained silent. She didn't comment or nod, she only waited.

He thought this was harder than the first time he lost Bucky. And a thousand times harder than when he found him.

Steve said no more. His pain belonged to him and she seemed to understand that. She didn't ask questions, didn't press him to talk.

After another hour, he began to feel guilty, realizing she wasn't planning to leave until he did.

He stood and she looked up at him, her head tilted sideways almost in question, as if she was asking why he was leaving, wondering why he thought she wouldn't just sit there all night with him.

Holding out his hand to her he offered her a bigger smile this time.

To his surprise, she took his hand and stood.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

"I have my car," she replied.

"That's not what I asked," he said.

"I can take a cab if I think I'm too tired to drive," she told him.

He shook his head.

"I can drive you," he said.

She smiled slightly at him before she nodded.

The drive to her apartment was just as silent. He expected her to fall asleep but she kept her eyes open, alert to everything going on both outside and inside the car.

He walked her to her door, pleased that she allowed him to do so. It was an uncommon courtesy these days. But Steve still liked to do things the old way.

As she opened the door, he finally spoke.

"Thank you," he said.

She smiled a warmer smile at him.

"You're welcome," she told him.

Then she stepped into her apartment and disappeared behind the door. He stood and listened until she had turned all the locks, then he took the stairs down to the lobby.

The sun was just making a show when he stepped back out onto the street. The chill of the spring morning cut through his jacket, but Steve was never bothered by the cold.

He turned to head back to the Tower. As he walked, the streets slowly became more crowded with cars. The sidewalks were teeming with people by the time he made it to Midtown.

When he walked back into the apartment Tony had given him, Steve picked up the cellphone he'd left there. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. He realized that he hadn't. A few words to Maria didn't constitute a conversation.

Sam had called to see how he was doing. Sharon had called to let him know she had found some things of her aunt's she thought he might like, and Steve was glad Sharon hadn't said her name. Just the thought of hearing it again caused his chest to tighten with pain.

The look of sympathy Maria'd had in her eyes flashed through his mind and this time he didn't question if she understood, he knew. He didn't have details, but he knew she had lost someone, knew she understood his pain.

The thought surprised Steve. None of this was something he'd expect from someone like Maria Hill, but he was beginning to wonder if unexpected was just her way.


End file.
